The Streets and Alleyways of Florence
by St. Harridan
Summary: AU. Kenpachi and Jushiro are on vacation in Italy.


Just a random little piece. Takes place after the multi-chaptered Kenpachi/Jushiro AU fic that I'm working on. Sorry for the absolutely fail geographical knowledge. /facepalm

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><p>Firenze – Florence. It's unquestionable that this city, capital of Tuscany, is the birthplace of Italian Renaissance. <em>La culla del Rinascimento<em> – "cradle of the Renaissance." Countless historical sites litter the city, the centre of it all having been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO with its medieval walls that once blocked out enemy attacks in the 14th century. Admirable people lived here – Dante Alighieri, Michelangelo, da Vinci, Raphael, the famous wealthy Medici family – and there are just so many places to visit; the basilica, aqueduct, the _Ponte Vecchio_ which rises up in a high, magnificent arc above the River Arno.

And so, with all those landmarks and tourist attractions, it's nothing but strange to see a couple walking through a street of cobblestones in an isolated corner of town sightseeing. A gay couple from Japan holding hands without a care in the world like it's just one of those lazy Sundays.

Well, one of them actually _minds_, because he knows that they should be out there in the square enjoying the mid-day sun and chasing away pigeons and staring with mouths agape at medieval structures that surround them. Not wasting time and money on some old, neglected block of low, red-bricked buildings covered with moss and climbing plants.

"What the hell are we doin' here?" Kenpachi asks for the third (or was it fourth?) time since they first entered the area – which is about twenty minutes ago. He looks at his partner, who's smiling at nothing in particular. "Ukitake?"

"Sightseeing." Jushiro raises an eyebrow at him, teasing him lightly. "Obviously."

"There's nothin' here, dumbass." He sweeps his free hand around and points at a broken wooden sign that's hanging precariously by its hinges. "Nothin' but old, old, _damn old _buildings. I didn't work hard and save up just so we can waste everythin' on this bullshit."

"Shush, they'll hear you." Jushiro glares at him and gives his hand an insistent tug. Kenpachi rolls his eyes, refraining from telling him off that till this very moment, he still hasn't met an Italian here who can understand Japanese. "Come on, don't pretend that you don't like the peace. I can bet that soothing Yachiru to sleep last night took it out of you."

"I'm used to it." Kenpachi frowns and scoffs. "Ain't no big deal. Just read her some damn bedtime story off the top of my head and she went to sleep 'fore I can get to the part where the princess kills herself."

"_Zaraki_!" Jushiro turns on him in horror, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Zaraki, don't tell me you actually read her such atrocious tales!"

"I'm just kiddin', prick. Don't get yer fundoshi all in a knot." Kenpachi laughs and throws his head back so the sun, that's peeking over the top of a roof, is casting its warm light onto his face. He heaves an impatient sigh, absently wondering just what the brat is doing back in the hotel. She was sound asleep when he and Jushiro sneaked out in the morning. It's a rare opportunity to actually have some time alone with him, so Kenpachi decided to seize the chance. If not now, then when?

This is supposed to be their honeymoon, a romantic getaway to Italy that Kenpachi had been planning for quite some time. Of course, he's nowhere near romantic, but Jushiro's told him a million times that it's merely the thought that counts. And he doesn't care if his intentions are misunderstood by others, because Jushiro's approval is the only thing that he needs.

Coming to think of it, as Kenpachi closes his eyes and lets Jushiro sway their hands back and forth like goddamn teenagers, spending time here in this little street isn't as bad as he first thought. It's quiet, it's calm, there aren't any irritating whines and complains and insistences from Yachiru. For once, he doesn't have to deal with any pains in his ass. The way the breeze travels through the air, teasing the dark strands of his hair, fleeting warmth on his skin – it's definitely something else. Something fresh, and with Jushiro beside him, he's certain that it will be one unforgettable memory for the both of them.

Italy. He doesn't know why he picked this country in the first place. Damn straight that it's leagues away from Japan, or maybe that's the exact reason why he chose it – to get away from the hustle and bustle of work, to spend days off on vacation with no one but Jushiro and Yachiru without having to busy himself with business. Ikkaku should be able to handle everything at the workshop anyway. As far as Kenpachi knows, they won't be receiving any new orders until the time he gets back. Should there be any "surprise attacks", as Yachiru calls the sudden request pop-ups for custom-made bikes, Ikkaku will take note of their order and Kenpachi will get back to them once he returns.

It's simple, really. Unless Ikkaku screws up, during which case Kenpachi will have his head. He's worked so hard on establishing his motorcycle company that he can't afford to lose anything.

Kenpachi doesn't really go on holidays all that much. This trip to Florence is probably the first since the death of his wife, Yachiru, years ago, and even though they've been here for a week, he still feels a tad bit uncomfortable. He's never good with adapting to the atmosphere that comes with foreign lands.

But he can't deny the light fluttering in his chest when he sees that Jushiro is happy. _Genuinely _happy. The wrinkles that have embedded themselves in his skin, especially at the corners of his eyes, have somehow slighted. The fresh air seems to be doing his lungs good, way better than being stuck in a stuffy classroom filled with little demons. Kenpachi can never get how Jushiro can cope with such madness. He's got one brat to take care of and that's more than enough for him.

"So…" Kenpachi starts, eyes close as he lets Jushiro lead him through the streets. Now he can hear the distant sound of a classical guitar on the breeze, as if beckoning him forward. "How's Florence treatin' ye?"

"Florence is beautiful." Jushiro lifts Kenpachi's hand up to his lips and, as he kisses Kenpachi's scarred knuckles, Kenpachi can feel a grateful smile pressed against his skin. "We'll visit the squares and the bridge over the River Arno soon, I promise."

Kenpachi shrugs and grins down at him. "I don't care where we go, as long as ye're happy."

"Growing sentimental now, are we?" Jushiro chuckles and pulls Kenpachi down for a quick kiss, licking his chapped bottom lip. Out of the corner of his eye Kenpachi can see an alleyway just to their right and a sudden thought occurs to him. He grabs Jushiro by the sleeve and yanks him into the alley and pins him against the rough, hard brick wall.

"Don't tease me, bastard." But it's Kenpachi who lets out a strained groan when Jushiro presses a knee against his crotch, a sultry smirk playing on his lips. Trying to contain himself, Kenpachi looks down the alley on both sides, making sure that no one can see them.

"In the mood for some pizza?" Jushiro says, almost innocently, as he points at the opposite wall. "I think this place is a restaurant. Would explain the music."

"Maybe later." Kenpachi bends down and licks at Jushiro's neck, tasting sweat, salt melting into his tongue. "I'm in the mood for somethin' else."

Jushiro closes his eyes and sighs in contentment as Kenpachi runs his hands along his sides, teeth nibbling at his collarbone, lips fleeting across his throat and shoulder and ear.

Kenpachi can only hope that no bastard stumbles upon them. But then again, even if they're caught, he won't care to give a rat's ass. He's got Jushiro, and that's the only thing that matters.


End file.
